Chapter 75 Her Room
While Daisy was eating her noodles, Vanessa sat across her, wearing a polite smile, but the discomfort in her eyes was impossible to hide.
That look was like she was guarding against a thief who might steal her treasure at any moment.
Daisy found it highly amusing. She had never noticed before that Vanessa could get this nervous.
Wiping her mouth with a linen napkin, she set her fork down. "Thank you, Miss Drake. That was good."
Vanessa couldn't help but asked, "I wonder how long Ms. Hart is planning to stay here?"
Daisy tilted her head, offering a breezy smile. "I don't know either."
With that, she stood up and headed for the stairs. Vanessa trailed behind her like a shadow, but Daisy paid her no mind, walking straight to the guest suite she used to occupy.
But the moment she pushed the door open, she froze.
It looked absolutely nothing like it had when she lived here.
The vases and decorations she'd personally chosen, even the books on the shelf—everything was gone. Even the curtains had been replaced with new ones.
Not to mention the photo frame she'd kept by the bed—her holding three-year-old Luna, laughing at the camera, with Vincent standing not far away watching them, a faint smile on his face.
Six years of marriage, and that was their only photo together.
Daisy stood paralyzed in the doorway for a full thirty seconds before the shock finally receded.
Funny thing was, the divorce papers had been signed for a while now, but only at this moment did she truly feel that she and Vincent were divorced.
This house, everything here, no longer belonged to her—it belonged to another woman now.
Vanessa had been right behind her the whole time, not saying a word even when she opened the door. Only now did she say with a leisurely smile, "Ms. Hart, would you like a tour of my room? I'm afraid tonight isn't very convenient though."
"I'll have the servants prepare a guest room for you."
Daisy turned around to see Vanessa's face showing a kind of "finally got one back on her" smugness.
She laughed lightly, "No need for a tour. I'm just a bit curious—you've been living here for a while now, right? And you still haven't moved into Vincent's master bedroom?"
"Winter's coming soon. That room has the best heating."
Those two casual sentences completely wiped the smugness off Vanessa's face. But before she could respond, Luna came over and said eagerly, "Mommy, sleep with me tonight! Daddy bought me new picture books. Can we read them together?"
"Of course, sweetie," Daisy smiled softly.
--
The next morning, when Daisy came downstairs to find Vincent already seated at the dining table.
He wore a dark blue shirt with the sleeves rolled halfway up, scrolling through his phone.
In front of him sat a cup of coffee and an untouched sandwich.
Daisy knew he despised continental breakfasts, especially in the morning when he had no appetite. What he actually craved was her slow-simmered seafood congee, packed with fresh scallops and clams, cooked for hours to get that soft, silky texture.
When she used to live here, she'd wake up early to make his meals. He always said her cooking was better than anything the staff made.
Well, he doesn't have that luxury anymore, she thought dryly.
She gave Vincent a brief nod was about to head for the door when his voice stopped her, "Sit. Eat something. I'll drive you after."
Daisy hesitated, then sat down across from him. A housekeeper immediately presented her plate: a fresh sandwich, perfectly fried eggs, warm milk, and a small bowl of sliced fruit.
The fruit was exactly the kind she liked.
"Where's Vanessa?" she asked casually.
"Still asleep."
Just as they were talking, footsteps came from upstairs. Vanessa walked down wearing a light pink loungewear set, her hair loosely tied, her face still showing the drowsiness of just waking up.
She paused mid-step upon seeing Daisy at the table, her greeting visibly strained, "Morning, Ms. Hart. Did you sleep well?"
Daisy nodded, "Pretty well."
Vanessa walked straight to Vincent's side and sat down next to him naturally, reaching for a piece of toast.
"Vince, what time are you coming home today? I want to go to the mall. Will you come with me?"
Vincent glanced at her. Before he could answer, his phone buzzed. He held it to his ear, listened for a few seconds, said "Got it," then hung up.
"I can't today. I have a meeting," he said, slipping the phone into his pocket and standing up.
Disappointment clouded Vanessa's face. "What about tomorrow?"
"Tomorrow is booked as well." Vincent picked up his car keys and looked directly at Daisy. "What time do you need to be at the office?"
"Nine o'clock," Daisy answered.
"I'll give you a ride."
Daisy opened her mouth to decline, but seeing Vanessa's face change instantly, she suddenly changed her mind.
"Sure, thanks."
Panic setting in, Vanessa tugged pitifully at Vincent's sleeve, her voice taking on a fragile whine. "Vince... I'm really not feeling well today. Could you stay—"
"Which is exactly why I told you to drink less," Vincent interrupted, his tone laced with dry exasperation. "You're acting as if you've been poisoned."
Before she could protest, he continued, "Actually, have the driver take you to the hospital for a checkup later, and stay there for a few days while you're at it. Get some proper rest."
Vanessa's alarm bells immediately went off.
Stay for a few days?
She looked at Vincent, trying to read something from his face, but he'd already finished his coffee and stood up to put on his coat. Daisy had just finished eating too.
"Let's go." He said to Daisy.
Daisy stood up, grabbed her bag, and followed him out.
When they reached the door, she paused and glanced back.
Vanessa stood there, hands gripping the edge of the dining table, trembling slightly, her eyes so fierce it looked like she wanted to eat Daisy alive.
Daisy mimicked the way Vanessa used to provoke her, arching her eyebrows in a smile—not that she had any feelings left for Vincent, she just enjoyed seeing Vanessa unhappy.
As long as Vanessa was suffering, Daisy was having a spectacular day.
The ride was smooth. When they got to the office, Daisy had just sat down when the phone rang. Seeing Shawn’s caller ID, she snatched it up instantly.
"Shawn! Are you okay? Your phone kept going to voicemail. I was so worried!"
Shawn's voice was a bit hoarse, but she sounded okay, "I'm fine. My phone had a tracking system installed on it. My dad was worried about me, so he took me to a signal-blocked area at home for a while and got rid of the old phone."
"What about you? Did anything happen to you last night?"
Daisy gave her a rapid-fire rundown of the evening's chaos.
After listening, Shawn was silent for a few seconds, then said, "At least Vincent acted like a human being. Hey, that Vanessa is at the Blacks' place too, right? I bet when she saw Vincent bring you back, the look on her face must have been priceless."
Shawn sounded cheerful, but Daisy couldn't muster a laugh. The tension from the past twenty-four hours was suffocating her.
"Shawn, stop dodging," Daisy demanded, her voice dropping to an intense whisper. "Tell me exactly what is going on with Marcus? What exactly does he want? What's on that USB drive? If I don't get some answers soon, I'm going to end up dead without even knowing why!"